


Tell Me You Can Stay

by rogueshadows



Series: Something Along the Rise [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Aftermath - Chuck Wendig, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-War, Pre-Episode: s02e01 The Marshal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/pseuds/rogueshadows
Summary: A friend of Cobb's comes back to town and teases him about his new relationship. Bodhi is reminded of things and people that might be best left in his past and Cobb has some insecurities of his own. Together they work through it.
Relationships: Bodhi Rook/Cobb Vanth
Series: Something Along the Rise [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078241
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Tell Me You Can Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ANTchan for beta'ing this mess!! Title credit: Turn to Hate by Orville Peck.

For all that Cobb has tried to be realistic in his life, to guard himself against his own foolish hopes, the fact of the matter swiftly becomes that Bodhi might just stick around. For good or as long as he can, at least. The weeks fly by with seemingly each moment together strengthening such an eventuality, a closeness building between them that Cobb never wants to shake. Even if thinking like that makes him feel a bit like a sap, he still won’t deny the truth of it, that he likes having Bodhi by his side. Between the warmth of his eyes that could rival the suns, and the so clearly hard-won happiness Bodhi’s managed to find in Mos Pelgo, Cobb can’t fathom a more admirable partner.

Not that they’re officially calling themselves _partners,_ but, maybe in time. With his hopes set so high, Cobb isn’t keen to rush Bodhi into anything, unwilling to risk both their hearts on clumsy impulse or desire. Even just holding Bodhi’s hand feels like a dare, the same way the soft brush of Bodhi’s lips against Cobb’s cheek had been, inconsequential to outsiders but enough for the two of them, for now. 

With each passing day Cobb feels hard-pressed not to believe Bodhi must feel the same, choosing to spend the day by Cobb's side with greater frequency rather than seeking out day jobs. He’ll still go when called on to help, handy to a T and clearly enthused when it comes down to most mechanical work, but for some reason waiting it out with Cobb seems to suit Bodhi all the same. Just spending time with Bodhi is some of the most fun Cobb’s had in years, even accounting for the way Bodhi inevitably shows him up at sabacc or dejarik every time. It’s rare that they find themselves completely idle, the notion at odds with both their characters, but sometimes just having Bodhi grin across the table at Cobb makes him feel like he’s sped through the Boonta Eve Classic. It’s something he’s working on, looking for things around the office to distract himself with even when there’s nothing else. 

It’s on a particularly uneventful day, when the goings-on of the town are quiet as a Kallidahin, that Jo Renden returns from her recent sojourn to Mos Eisley. Jo was probably as close to a best friend as Cobb had, at least since Issa had moved on. While she hasn’t quite become a fixture in Cobb’s office, with her own responsibilities and interests to attend to, she has always been willing to butt into Cobb's life and the town's troubles when needed. Despite her being just about half Cobb's age, even he isn’t too proud to admit she might be twice as smart, something she never fails to remind him of. 

When she enters his office, Cobb can’t help but feel an equal measure of relief and insecurity wash over him, knowing that she’ll be expecting a more honest explanation than most about how Bodhi has made his way into Cobb’s life. 

“Hey there Jo, glad to see you back,” Cobb says, heading off her greeting, buying himself time to step out of Bodhi’s space where he’d so blatantly been angled. Bodhi straightens up too, considering their visitor and waiting to be introduced, setting down the piece of Cobb’s armor he’d been starting to clean. The rest is laid out on the desk in front of them, the maintenance serving as something to pass the time as much as it was Cobb’s subtle way of angling for Bodhi to tell him a bit about the armor’s previous owner. 

“Long time no see, marshal,” Jo replies with an almost overly casual politeness despite all the years he’s spent trying to convince her the title isn’t necessary. “Good to see you too, and is this the Bodhi I’ve heard so many rumors about?”

“You can’t even have been back in town that long! Who have you been talking to?” Cobb can’t say he’s surprised, but still, it’s a little bit jarring to know that people are just chatting about him and Bodhi like it’s the weather.

“Gido, of course,” Jo says conversationally. “Ress backed him up pretty well on it too.”

“As long as they’re good rumors, yes, that’s me,” Bodhi cuts in softly, earning him a smile from Jo.

“Only the best, I promise,” Jo says, coming over to shake Bodhi’s hand and introduce herself properly. “I’m Jo, I suppose this one hasn’t mentioned me has he?”

“Mentioned what a pain you are, you mean?” Cobb cuts in. Jo only grins wider. Fondness spurs Cobb to continue with a bit more truth. “I’m kidding, of course. Jo has always been a great help around here, sorting out messes with folks before they even make it my way sometimes. I truly appreciate it, even though she’s probably just out for my job.” 

“Which one am I after now, mayor or marshal?”

“The one that’s real,” Cobb replies. “If you’d like to take up the absolutely fictional mayor position, on the other hand, it’s yours, no questions asked. I won’t even call for an election.”

“We both know it’d be unanimous in your favor,” Jo insists lightly. “I’m not here to take any of your jobs today _,_ far more interested in getting to know Bodhi here, if you’ll mind your manners long enough. It’s not every cycle we get a newcomer in Mos Pelgo and I’m sure nobody’s told him half of the most embarrassing stories I have about you.”

“Is that so?” Bodhi plays along with her teasing, clearly as amused as he is intrigued by the prospect.

“Oh please, I’m not even going to try to stop you. Just pretend I’m not even here, I suppose,” Cobb says, holding up his hands in concession. With little remorse for the betrayal, Jo actually follows through on his mocking suggestion.

“Well, let's see then,” Jo starts, counting off the incidents on her fingers as she lists them off. “There was the time he nearly fell off the water containment tower, and the other when he was first practicing with that jet pack of his and scared the rontos half to death, and _another_ time where—”

“I’ll just see myself out then, give you two a chance to catch up,” Cobb jokes, hoping to derail her before she gets to the one about the happabore herders passing through. For his part, Bodhi doesn’t even look abashed in the slightest for urging Jo to continue. If Cobb wasn’t so fond of him, he might feel more affronted for that fact.

“I would never actually tell him anything too bad,” Jo promises in a way that Cobb can’t help but feel is disingenuous, “at least not in front of you.”

“Jo, really now?” Cobb sighs, shaking his head. “I could air a few grievances about your misadventures too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but I’m not half as embarrassed about them as you are. C’mon, how about we all go out together for a change of pace? No use staying cooped up in here when no one else is likely to come calling.”

“Hey, I take my job very seriously you know, some people might actually need me round these parts.”

The breeze blows gently outside with only the barest rustle, the street outside utterly calm in deference to his concerns. He is far from dismayed by the lack of action, but still, it does render his claims far more ineffectual than he’d first considered.

“Well, _I_ need you to lighten up and join me at the cantina, where you know well enough anyone can come find you if something arises. Or I could just take Bodhi instead. My treat.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Bodhi adds, clearly in support of the plan. “Either way, I mean. I think the armor will keep if you’re up to it.”

Cobb sighs, realizing that he’s suddenly been outnumbered, certain that their fast forged friendship will cause him an undue amount of grief. Still, he can’t deny that it's nice to see, to have Bodhi get along with one of the people Cobb trusts most. Unable to resist their eager looks at the prospect, Cobb nods in agreement. 

“Alright, but only so I can defend myself to Jo’s slander. I’d hate to have you run off because she tarnished my reputation.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jo says, linking her arm with Bodhi’s and tugging him along. She’s already whispering something to Bodhi that Cobb can’t make out by the time they reach the street, one that elicits a warm laugh from the man, very likely at Cobb’s expense. The same kinds of small exchanges continue throughout their chatter at Gido’s, with Cobb correcting Jo’s stories only half the time, too caught up in laughing along to care much over his embarrassment in the end. The shine of joy it gives Bodhi is well worth it, anyhow.

Jo talks about herself as well, about how her parents had lived out in Mos Espa working in the spaceport for years, only moving to Mos Pelgo after she was born, in search of a better life. Cobb hadn’t been around these parts back then, with life in the settlement far more restrictive under the Empire and yet still plentiful from the mines. It always heartens him, to remember that history, to see in each day how far the place has come. Hearing about Jo’s past spurs Bodhi to reveal more in kind, things Cobb might never have heard if he hadn’t joined them. Nothing too detailed, just a few small things, about how Bodhi had grown up, skirting around a brief mention of Imperial occupation to focus on the good. As in Bodhi’s previous candid recollection, his mother is a focus in the anecdotes, a woman who gave a great deal for her son to thrive.

Cobb’s grateful to hear about her, even in these wisps, glad to know Bodhi a little better through the stories he relays. Bodhi talks of learning to cook for his mother, and Cobb thinks of him fussing around in their own small kitchen, wondering after a beat when it had become definitively _theirs_ and not only Cobb’s own in his mind. He’s certain Bodhi wouldn’t dispute the claim, for all that he’s fumbled over the word _home_ when it comes to Cobb’s place. It’ll come easier someday, maybe even soon, as simple as the increasing ease of casual touch between them has been. With his ankle resting against Bodhi’s under the table, and the occasional purposeful nudges he’s received, Cobb feels confident on that. 

Bodhi finishes his drink while Gido is still busy at the till to see to a refill, and Cobb takes the chance to get up and stretch his legs while he remedies that. He puts in the drink order and hits the fresher, sizing himself up in the dusty mirror there for a beat. Cobb had never been one for vanity, though others might argue and tease otherwise just from the sight of his well-kept hair. Cobb pushes it back with one hand, considering how it’s silvered, wondering if he’d have a more serious reputation if he were less handy with a set of clippers. It didn’t matter so much when he had the helmet on, and without the specter of whoever Bodhi had met in the past in that armor, Cobb wonders idly if he would’ve even earned a second glance from the man. Whoever Boba Fett is or was, Cobb can’t help offer a small part of gratitude toward him for the introduction, no matter how certain he is Bodhi would balk at the opinion. 

After washing his hands in the sonic sink, Cobb goes back out to the bar, immediately spying the fact that Bodhi has joined Jo on her side of the booth, his expression bright as he describes something to her, tracing out shapes on the placemat in front of them. Cobb leans against the bartop, looking away from the pair, content not to interrupt just yet. Gido slides Bodhi’s refilled drink Cobb’s way, eyeing him with as little subtlety as a bantha in a temple. 

“You really had to go and tell Jo about him, didn’t ya? Couldn’t even let me get a word in edgewise first. Some friend you are.”

“I just figured she’d appreciate the news, after being gone so long. Didn’t know you were going to be so sensitive about it.”

“It’s not _news_ , Gido, it's been a month and, yeah, it’s been nice. He’s just staying with me until he finds a place of his own, that’s all.” Cobb lies in a halfhearted attempt to diffuse at least a small bit of the fuss. 

“If that were the case he could have stayed here and at least made me some rent money,” Gido complains without any real malice. “But _no_ , you just had to fall for him the second he pointed his blaster on you and fluttered his pretty eyelashes.”

“You keep telling people that first part and they’re gonna think I have some sorta deathwish kink,” Cobb sighs. “Which I do _not,_ for the record.”

“Says the fool with a jetpack strapped to him most days,” Gido laughs, and for all his annoyance, Cobb can’t help but join in.

“Okay, other than that, I don’t,” he grins, “so maybe don’t lead with that in the future. I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about Bodhi. Not that it hurt much for him and Jo to get on well, obviously. It’s just, he’s new here, like you said. Does he really deserve to be saddled with all that?”

Gido shakes his head, wiping out the glass in his hand, refusing to give the matter up easily. “Being saddled with _you_ , doesn’t exactly seem a hardship to him y’know, if the moon-eyed looks he’s always shooting at you are anything to go by.”

“Maybe,” Cobb concedes, trying not to seem taken off guard by the flattering assessment as he grabs Bodhi’s glass. “Don’t you go giving me a pep talk now, Gido, you old sap. Just keep what I said in mind? As a favor.”

“ _Maybe,”_ Gido echoes with just a hint of mocking. “As long as you do the same.” 

Abandoning Cobb for a new customer that’s arrived down the other end of the bar, Gido doesn’t look back. When Cobb glances back to the booth, Bodhi is glancing his way, eyebrow arched in silent question. Gido’s musings had taken longer than Cobb expected. Cobb raises the glass in his hand Bodhi’s way with a wink and strides over to rejoin the party. Upon Cobb’s approach, Jo folds up the placemat they’d been peering at, stuffing the folded flimsi into her pocket without explanation.

“You give Gido a piece of your mind over there?” Jo asks, clearly amused.

“Something like that,” Cobb shakes his head, sliding into the booth and resting his arm over the back of it. Jo nudges Bodhi’s side and he laughs, coming back round the table to sit at Cobb’s side. “I reckon I gave you two enough time to get up to something.”

“It’s something you’ll like, I hope,” Bodhi responds, biting back a smile. “Not telling you now, of course, but you’ll see.”

“Sure I will,” Cobb allows with only a bit of incredulity. Bodhi takes a sip of his drink, sharing a look with Jo that does nothing to aleve Cobb’s suspicions. He lets it go easily enough, prepared to be patient and accept whatever payoff they have in mind when it comes. There are only so many ways Jo would actually mess with him, and even fewer that he thinks Bodhi would agree to anyhow. 

“So, aside from you two meeting, anything else interesting happen in the settlement while I was away?” Jo asks. 

“Just the usual,” Cobb starts, “Jordana and Eryn finally made their arrangements to get hitched.”

“Oh that’s so nice to hear, they’re awful cute together. You’ll be officiating?”

“Yeah, in a few month’s time, cutting it close to storm season but they’re waiting on Eryn’s father coming back to town.”

“Is that common, that you officiate?” Bodhi asks. He’d been out working with Mar the day the couple came into Cobb’s office, so his surprise is understandable. 

“From time to time, not like we have a temple or anything better.”

“Don’t be so humble. They’d choose you anyhow, you have the right humor for it,” Jo insists. “People trust you to make it a good day.”

Cobb waves off the compliment, “Anyone could do the same, I’m glad to help them make do.”

“I think it's sweet,” Bodhi says, looking at Cobb warmly. Cobb adjusts his arm where it rests across the back of the booth, draping it over Bodhi’s shoulder more blatantly. At the touch, Bodhi shifts closer, pressing into Cobb’s side, comfortable in his space even with Jo looking on. 

“He gets all cleaned up and everything for the ceremonies, it's really a sight.”

“He’ll get to see for himself, hush now. The lovebirds’ day ain’t hardly supposed to be about some grumpy old marshal.”

“Old may be a fair assessment, but you’re not _always_ grumpy,” Jo teases.

“You’re a terrible friend, I ever tell you that?”

“Mhm,” Jo smirks, sipping her drink. “Can’t help being honest.”

They bicker a bit, over Cobb’s age, the conversation revealing just how much older Cobb is than Bodhi. Something Bodhi gratefully doesn’t seem too put off by, nudging Cobb’s knee with his own when it’s suggested he might feel otherwise. Cobb relaxes, gratefully moving on to another subject. He winds up caught up in the middle of a casual debate with Jo, over whether or not they should make the effort to refurbish the old homes on the edge of the settlement or not.

“Just saying, people have more pride in the place if they can lead the work themselves. Not that we wouldn’t help. It’s a lot to take on without knowing—”

Bodhi goes still against his side, the sudden shift in his posture obvious with how close they’re seated together. Cobb cuts off what he was saying to see what’s caused it, but Bodhi is looking away, not at him or Jo but at the holoplayer at the center of the bar. The newsreel is running, and as best as Cobb can see there’s a woman speaking through the broadcast, making an announcement of some sort that Cobb can’t hear over the din of the cantina. It’s intercut with images from the war, a group image that’s too blurry to make out well in the static.

“Bodhi?” Cobb prompts, breaking his focus from where he’d been staring. Bodhi flinches as if just realizing where he is, extracting himself from Cobb’s touch completely. Bodhi takes a deep breath, clearly trying to steady himself. 

“I — I have to go, for air. I’ll just…” Bodhi’s posture is still off, his expression fraught. “Excuse me.” Bodhi slides past Cobb to get out of the booth, barely giving Cobb a chance to react.

“Hey—” Cobb tries, wanting to figure out what’s set off the sudden anxiety. Bodhi doesn’t pay him any mind, heading towards the door and retreating outside. At a loss, Cobb looks to Jo, who seems just as concerned and taken aback by the sudden departure. Replaying the lead up to the moment in his mind, Cobb glances towards the holo-broadcast again, where the same press conference is still airing. Some big New Republic deal, announcing that they’ve assigned new ambassadors to handle relations with the Outer Rim. A woman in white takes over the pundit, speaking with well-honed grace. 

“Hey Gido, turn it up a bit?” 

_“—very grateful to Captain Erso and Major Andor for accepting these newly created positions. Their willingness to take on the challenges facing many of the most underserved beings and systems in our galaxy is to be commended; just as their past work in taking down the first Death Star is to this day. We have the utmost—”_

To Cobb, it sounds like the same old story as ever. One that doesn’t seem to track with Bodhi’s sudden reaction, leaving Cobb even more confused. 

“Should I let him be? Or…”

“Go after him, make sure he’s alright. I’ll close out the tab.”

“Thanks Jo,” Cobb says, feeling grateful for the guidance. 

“Tell him I’ll see him real soon.”

Cobb nods, standing to make his way after Bodhi without another word. From the weathered old porch out front Bodhi is nowhere to be seen, setting Cobb's nerves even more on edge. Maybe he went back to the office? Or even back home to their place. With how upset he'd seemed, it'd be understandable either way. Cobb strolls further into the street, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign, and it's just luck that he spies Bodhi in his periphery, seated just around the corner of the building where Gido keeps the shipping crates. Even in his relief, Cobb hesitates to approach Bodhi at first, uncertain if he’ll be welcome. Just seeing that he’s okay from a distance and waiting for him to come back would have to be enough. Taking in the slump of Bodhi’s shoulders, and the way he’s curled in on himself, it takes every bit of impulse control for Cobb not to ignore his better sense on the matter. _Was leaving him alone really any better than overstepping?_

Of course, that’s when Bodhi notices him, beckoning Cobb over with a halfhearted wave. Cobb treads quietly towards him, hovering close to the crate rather than crowding Bodhi by sitting beside him. Bodhi sighs, looking up at Cobb with red-rimmed eyes that shine too much for consolation. 

“You didn’t have to leave Jo, not on my account. I just…” Bodhi’s breath hitches and he shuts his eyes, as if frustrated by it. “I might just head back to your place if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright. If you need to be alone, hey, I get that,” Cobb says, willing to accept the dismissal if it’s what Bodhi truly wants. “But, if it matters, Jo’s closing out the tab and I don’t mind leaving early one bit if you want me with you.” 

Bodhi’s answer comes slow, his expression awash with conflict as he studies Cobb. When the words do come, Bodhi sounds more tired than anything. “I do,” Bodhi admits, “I want you here, but I can’t ask. I don’t even know how to explain myself without...”

“Hey,” Cobb says gently, tipping Bodhi’s chin up so their eyes meet again. “Remember what you said to me before? No need to explain.”

Bodhi nods, scooting over a bit to make room for Cobb on the crate despite any lingering hesitation he might feel. Cobb takes a seat beside him, watching him carefully while at the same time trying not to make Bodhi feel self-conscious. It’s a hard balance to strike, one he’s sure he’s kriffed up somehow when Bodhi refuses to meet his eyes. Cobb stays quiet, sorting through the things he might say, not knowing what’s wrong or how to make it better in the slightest. Cobb feels stuck on the holo-broadcast, unsure of the full significance of the news to Bodhi, but wondering if there might at least be some solution for the future.

"I can have them change over the holo-broadcast when stuff like that comes on, about politics or...the war. Or we can hang around someplace else when there's news playing, if it’s easier for you.” Cobb tries, aware that the assumption might be overreaching his promise. Whatever Bodhi’s been through, Cobb honestly doesn’t _need_ to know, not for himself. If asking just this small thing helps Bodhi though, he’s willing to chance being wrong.

Bodhi tenses up all over again, a bit distraught when he asks. “How much do you know?”

Cobb’s brow furrows, rushing to reassure Bodhi even as he wonders what he’s missing. “Nothing, really Bodhi. I just… I assumed it had to be the war, what with the ambassador’s announcements. If I was wrong I’m—”

“You’re not,” Bodhi says, swallowing hard. “I _was_ in it but… so was everyone else. In one way or another. I’m not… I’m not looking for sympathy or for anything to do with that time in my life. I just wish I could move on, kriff, I thought I had. But all my friends still don’t get it.”

Bodhi’s breath hitches again, and it’s all Cobb can take, reaching out to intertwine their hands. What upset Bodhi must be more personal than Cobb thought, the woman in the holo serving some reminder of the things Bodhi has been holding back. Maybe she was a friend to him once, or maybe even more. Cobb doesn’t dare to ask. 

”People you care about don’t always understand the important things, no matter how much you want them to,” Cobb says, with too much of his own life experience reflected in the words. He's disappointed plenty of people, for good reasons and for bad, learning well enough from it that sometimes that was just the price you paid for surviving. 

Cobb remembers the way his mother had thrown him out of the house when he’d told her about selling himself off as a laborer to clear the family debt. He was sixteen and so certain it was the right choice that he refused to go back on it. The pain in her eyes was impossible to block out, even as the door slid shut in his face. Looking back, he doesn’t even blame her for it.

”I just always thought, after everything, they might want to actually _enjoy_ the peace we won. I know that it’s incredibly selfish, in the grand scheme of things, but... I still wanted it for them, just as much as I want it for myself. I couldn’t breathe back there, before I came here, with so much expectation weighing on me.”

“I hardly count that as being selfish. It’d be hard for anyone to live with that pressure,” Cobb insists, not needing the details to be certain that Bodhi was owed peace. 

“Not for them, apparently,” Bodhi scoffs, with more frustration than sadness.

“They just bear it differently, that’s all. It doesn’t make them any better.”

Bodhi fixes him with a slightly incredulous look. “Oh, so you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out there _helping the galaxy_ , what, just because it upsets me? You help people everyday Cobb and I’m just—”

“You help too, I’ve never seen you turn a single person down when they needed a hand, myself included. You know that right?” Cobb squeezes Bodhi’s hand, hoping the physical touch will help drive the point home. Bodhi remains distant in spite of it, laughing humorlessly as he shakes his head.

“I guess, it’s not the same though, is it? I’m not important. If I left,” Bodhi falters, “nothing would change if I left.”

“Says who?” Cobb demands, his own frustration eking in, wanting to know who in the galaxy had let Bodhi believe he was anything less than enough. Bodhi still isn’t listening though, not really, already deciding against himself in so many ways.

“You’re biased because you like me, and I appreciate that, really. I just… I don’t know if I deserve it. I’ve wondered since the day we met and if I was a better person I'd—”

“Can you stop, just listen to me for a minute?” Bodhi’s words come to a halt, the quiet enough of an answer for Cobb to continue. “First off, liking you is not a bias, it's something you earned, just by being yourself. You got that?”

“Noted,” Bodhi acquiesces quietly, with a smile that only barely comes across.

“Secondly, the way I see it…what anyone deserves doesn’t make a lick of difference, good or bad, what matters is what you choose to accept. You chose to be here, and they chose to be there, and in the end either way of living is only worth it if you can live with yourself. Which you have been just fine, all these weeks spent putting up with me day in and day out, unless I’m mistaken?”

"I have been,” Bodhi answers, “it’s been so much better here, and I just wish they understood. As much as they wanted me to stay, I… I never would have chosen the war and that world for myself, and just saying that feels like a betrayal.”

“It isn’t like that at all. Your choice to be happy now, even if it’s just for yourself, doesn’t change a bit of the good you’ve done.”

“You can’t know that, can’t know me enough to—”

“I might not know what battles you fought in or who that woman in the holo is to you, but don’t tell me I don’t know you. I pride myself on being a pretty good judge of character, and it might be selfish for me to say, but I like to think you’re right where you belong.”

As much as he needs Bodhi to believe it, Cobb can’t help but feel a bit vulnerable with the words out in the open, the sentiment far too revealing of his own hopes. He’s still caught up in worrying when Bodhi shifts even closer, burying his face in Cobb’s shoulder with a sigh. Cobb lets go of Bodhi’s hand in favor of tugging him into an embrace, relieved to feel Bodhi relax. Cobb rubs slow circles over Bodhi's back, unsure if there's anything else to be said. He leaves the silence open to Bodhi, to whatever he needs. 

"I just wish it didn't still hurt to see them. No matter what they think of me now, I think I'll always miss them," Bodhi admits quietly, lifting his chin, pulling back to look Cobb in the eyes. "Not that I'm not _happy_ here, Cobb, I don't mean to imply—"

Bodhi’s concern warms Cobb even more, another sign proving just how good he is. 

“Shh, you don’t gotta tell me. Given you plenty of chances to up and leave and you haven’t, kind of gave you away.”

Bodhi laughs, and although Cobb knows he can't fix everything, it's at least a start.

“I’m glad you noticed, and I’m glad you came after me, even though I feel a bit foolish for running off in the first place.”

“Anytime,” Cobb offers without hesitation. “If you need space, or if you need me close, just like this, I understand.” 

“Close is good,” Bodhi breathes, peering up at Cobb with a new kind of focus, something that Cobb might just dare to categorize as intent. With how close they are, still half wrapped up in each other, Cobb’s imagination can’t help but wander. The thought of crossing the scant distance between them to capture Bodhi’s lips is both enticing and intimidating for how much promise it might hold. To act on it now, after Bodhi’s just poured out such a complicated piece of his history, doesn’t seem right, for all that it’s clear they both want it.

“Alright then,” Cobb says absently, summoning all the willpower in the galaxy just to will himself to let go first. Unwrapping his arms from around Bodhi breaks the spell both awkwardly and definitively. Bodhi clears his throat, moving to stand from the crate. With the moment fading, the sounds of the rest of the world clatter back into focus, the hum of the generator and the laughter of patrons inside the cantina serving as a welcome distraction. Cobb straightens the bandana around his neck, trying hard not to think of the way Bodhi’s hands must have dislodged it in the first place. 

“We should go back to the office,” Bodhi says, “for your armor at least, right?”

“Good point, we can go there and then...”

“Home?”

“Right,” Cobb says, trying and failing not to read into Bodhi’s newfound ease with the claim. Some of what he’d said, about Bodhi belonging, must have sunk in, that’s all. They walk away from the alleyway and make good on the plan, with Cobb packing away the armor rather than finishing the job cleaning it. There would be time for it later, and one scuff or another wasn’t really gonna make much difference. They stroll back to the house side by side and Bodhi doesn’t shy away when their hands brush, tangling their fingers outright the third time it happens. 

It’s all about as domestic as Cobb can stand, with the two of them milling about the living space and reheating leftovers for dinner. For all the pent up expectation they’d shared in the alleyway, things now feel incongruously calm. If not for the way Bodhi keeps glancing at him, through their meal and afterward as they settle in to watch an old holovid, Cobb might not believe it had happened at all. With Bodhi’s decisive shift towards Cobb, they sit close, pressed up alongside each other as they had been earlier in the cantina booth. The easy comfort Cobb has taken in their closeness all along feels somehow more intimate now as Bodhi relaxes into his side.

The holovid plays out after a while, with Cobb realizing he hasn’t even paid attention to half of it, not even recognizing the name of the character Bodhi declares his favorite.

“Mhm, me too,” Cobb hums, grateful that Bodhi doesn’t press for any further discussion. It’s late, and alongside his distraction, Cobb also can’t deny how bone-tired he feels. The weight of his worry and relief all compounding, leaving him in need of a good night’s rest. Still, he can’t bear dislodging Bodhi from his side, wondering not for the first time if they could have skipped all this back and forth hesitation if they _had_ just hooked up that first night. Bodhi is watching him again, his eyelids drooping between blinks enough proof that Cobb’s not the only one feeling worn-out.

“Probably oughta get some sleep,” Cobb tries, still not having the heart or the will to push Bodhi away. If he wasn’t so certain his back would be kriffed to hell and back by sleeping on the couch like this, he wouldn’t say anything at all. Bodhi takes enough pity on him to move away first, straightening up and stretching. Cobb sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees to relieve a bit of the stiffness that’s already set into his lower back. Bodhi stands first, his relative youth allowing him to bounce back with less consideration, offering Cobb both hands as leverage off the low couch. 

“C’mon then,” Bodhi says, wiggling his fingers until Cobb grasps them with his own and accepts the assist, allowing himself to be tugged up and into Bodhi’s space. 

The ramifications of the choice bring their faces close again, only this time it’s different. Different because, this time, Bodhi is leaning in. Cobb prepares himself for another kiss to the cheek, something friendly and deniable if push comes to shove. It’s for the best, after the day Bodhi’s had, Cobb knows better than to—

Their lips meet and Cobb’s world turns to pure warmth, his skin heating to match with the sudden shift between them. Bodhi keeps it simple and sweet, brushing his lips over Cobb’s in silent offering. Cobb takes the hint, kissing back with just as much consideration, surprise melting away to nothing but gladness at the sound of Bodhi’s pleased hum. Cobb squeezes Bodhi’s hands, reflexively but not too tight, still chasing after the sensation when they finally part. 

Despite all the lead-up Cobb somehow still feels blindsided by the affirming kiss; left wordless, and breathless, and incandescently happy all at once. The mood feels impossible to break, not even when Bodhi does finally back away, forcing Cobb to let go. 

“Goodnight,” Bodhi says, edging towards the hallway while still watching Cobb, his smug smile irrepressible in a way that makes Cobb want to drag him close all over again. Now that Bodhi's opened up the option, it feels impossible to think of anything else.

"Night," Cobb manages to muster by the time Bodhi's halfway across the room, earning him another glance of that gorgeous grin before he finally disappears into his bedroom. Cobb sits back down on the couch, feeling a little bit punch drunk from the whole experience. It sets in more after a moment, with Cobb barely smothering down his own incredulous grin, certain he'll look like a fool sitting there if Bodhi does decide to come back. He carries the feeling with him, all the way to his own room, flopping down on his bed with a sigh like he’s some maiden in a holonovel.

For all that they’ve teased each other in small ways over the past weeks, the kiss makes everything feel more real, the overwhelming ease he feels giving way to restful sleep. If he dreams it's of Bodhi, of tan skin and warm lips, and the coy smiles Cobb never thinks he'll get enough of.

It’s a really good dream.

**Author's Note:**

> There is definitely more coming because I've written like another 20k whoops


End file.
